


Crystal's Faith

by hazelnutbrew



Category: Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles
Genre: Adventures, Bandanna Selkie, Bonds, Cute, F/M, Female Clavat, Heterosexual, Homosexual, Long Hair Clavat, Looking for beta reader, Male Selkie, Nakama, Raccoon Tail Male Selkie, Romance, Shark Eyes Female Selkie, Sweet, Wolfie Male Selkie, journies, longfic, multichapter fic, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 14:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelnutbrew/pseuds/hazelnutbrew
Summary: Claire is a young Clavatian girl who hoped to travel in the caravan, following in her brother's footsteps. Instead of traveling in a caravan, she ends up with a band of traveling Selkies. What greater destiny lies ahead for her? SelkiexClavat





	1. Chapter 1

Crystal’s Faith  
Chapter One  
Expectation brimmed in the air. The villagers made the necessary preparations for the crystal caravan, which traveled on its yearly venture to collect myrrh. Claire loved this time of the year, not only for the festivities and the smiles that brightened everyone’s faces, but the symbolic hope that the crystal in their town stood for. Each year, the Village Elder read sacred prayers from the leather-bound tome he always carried, to apply myrrh to the crystal and beseech it for its blessing, to allow them to live in another year of peace. Claire hoped to see her brother, Samuel, who traveled the caravan and acted as its leader. She also yearned to travel the caravan one day, to help keep their village strong.

The Clavatians were known for their unity, and this village was no exception. Big feasts were prepared for the caravanners, who would no doubt be hungry from their long and weary journey. A scrumptious meal of mixed vegetables, with the finest Gourd Potatoes, Round Corns, and Star Carrots that were plucked from the lovingly tended gardens, along with generous slabs of meat dripping with grease, big loafs of flaky bannock, and the favorite staple of Clavatian meals, Striped Apple Pie, would be prepared. Claire brushed her hair into sleek perfection, before putting her customary bandanna over her head. For the finishing touch, she took a delicate red ribbon, a gift from Samuel, and tied the lower end of her hair. Her brother gave her the affectionate nickname of Hornet, since her hair resembled the insect’s stinger whenever she put her hair up.

Other people in the village, however, named her ‘little dreamer’, for the far off expression she usually wore when she stood on the hilltop that looked towards a great expanse of infinitely blue skies. Claire peeked into a bronze-gilded mirror in her room, examining her features. Her face was cherubic, with a slightly rounded face and cupid bow lips, along with wide brown eyes that always seemed to marvel at the wonder of everything. At twelve years old, she was on the last year of childhood--soon to be on the verge of womanhood. She was not quite old enough to participate in a caravan, though she hoped that next year, she would be one of the chosen candidates. Next year, she thought to herself, I will follow my brother’s footsteps. I will ride in the caravan, and make my mother and father proud.

She smoothed out imaginary wrinkles from her cream-colored dress and straightened her black leggings. Claire then tapped her soft brown shoes twice on the wooden floor, before heading out from her comfortable home. The sound of striking iron and the wave of heat billowing from the forge immediately struck her senses. Her father was hard at work, she knew. Forging was his pride and joy, and he was renowned as a great blacksmith who forged wonderful swords. Arion usually took some time to take Claire aside and train her in the art of swordsmanship, since she was the daughter of a blacksmith, after all. She didn’t wield a real sword in her hands--instead, her father and herself would practice with wooden sticks in mock spars. Sometimes her brother would spar with her, something that always lightened Claire’s heart and made her love her brother all the more fiercely. Claire looked forward to the day when she would wield one of her father’s skillfully crafted swords and fight alongside Samuel.

Indeed, Arion struck iron with his hammer, concentrating on his task. Claire watched him at work, admiring how the iron seemed to bend and weld to his will. A true craftsman made a task seem magical--and she marveled how her father could skillfully shape a sword. The blacksmith paused momentarily to wipe a film of sweat from his brow, before he turned and glanced towards Claire. A smile spread across his face. Despite his steel-gray hair, he appeared young again, when he smiled like that. “Why, if it isn’t my little dreamer! You’re probably excited to see the caravanners again, I expect.”

“Of course,” Claire said, bowing respectfully to her father in greeting. “Samuel said that he found some mythril for you to forge in his letter. There were other materials, too--like diamond ore, alloy, and other things.”

“Ah, that’s wonderful.” Arion then continued with his work, sparks flying from his hammer. “We can’t afford mythril. It’s been a while since I’ve held it in my hands. It makes wonderful weapons--it’s a nice and sturdy material that is more resilient than iron and bronze.”

“And orichalcum is harder than mythril,” Claire said, remembering earlier conversations with her father about materials that were used in blacksmithing. “It’s gold in color, and doesn’t chip or rust, just like mythril.”

There seemed to be a bright gleam in Arion’s eyes when Claire spoke. “That’s my Claire. You’d make a fine blacksmith one day.”

He then ruffled her hair affectionately, causing Claire to grin and giggle in response. “Why don’t you run along and see to the other villagers? They could use some extra help, I am sure.”

Claire bowed again, before leaving her father to his work. Activity seemed to bustle everywhere. The fisherman netted in their latest catch, which would no doubt be part of the great feast for the caravanners. Cows were being milked in the rancher’s farm, dough was being kneaded at the miller’s, and crops were gathered by the armful at the farmer’s. In the meantime, tailors brought out bright dyes and threads, while the merchant family got out their wares to help replenish stocks for the caravanners for their next journey. Everything was in motion, and Claire got caught up in the excitement, in the constant movement and activities that were taking place. She helped gather crops, milk the cows, and knead dough, until she began to sweat slightly from exertion. Still, Claire liked to work and keep busy. It helped distract her from the gnawing impatience of waiting for her brother to come back home.

When Claire finished, the day slowly turned to dusk. A chorus of insects rose, drowning the night into a cozy lull that always comforted her to sleep. Claire fought the urge to yawn, opting to stretch instead. She waited at the bridge, hoping to hear the sound of creaking wheels and the sight of the caravan coming back home. Claire waited until the night turned even deeper and darker, the hum of insects an incessant background ambience that made her nod off a couple of times. She strained to listen for any signs of the caravan’s arrival, though none were forthcoming. As Claire eventually drifted off to sleep at the spot, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that the caravan didn’t arrive.

\--x--

The next day was bright and warm, a cloudless day that made it impossible to feel sad or disappointed. Claire’s earlier dejected mood rose with the sun in the sky, as she sat up from her place on the ground and stretched. Surely today would be the day that they would arrive. After all, caravans could be a couple days late. She was simply impatient to see her brother again, after missing him for a year now. She brushed off any dirt or dust that clung to her clothes, before she headed back into the village. If the villagers were disappointed from the lack of the caravan, they certainly didn’t allow it to show on their faces. After all, there was still work to be done. The villagers went back to their daily proceedings, working hard, as they usually did.

Claire walked towards the farmer’s house, watching as a middle-aged couple gathered crops to store for the winter months. Without any prompting, Claire helped dig out Gourd Potatoes, much to the relief of the grateful couple.

“Ah, little dreamer,” the elder woman, Obelia, said. “It is truly a delight to have you still around. My son and daughter went on the caravan. It helps to have an extra pair of hands tending to the crops. I feel my old bones can’t bend like they used to. My age is catching up with me, I’m afraid.”

“It’s no problem at all. I like doing something to keep me busy, anyway.”

“Why don’t you help yourself to one of our Striped Apples, Claire?” Obelia’s husband said. “I recall that they’re your favorite. In fact, I remember that when you were younger, you took off with an armful of our Striped Apples.”

A bright blush streaked Claire’s cheeks at the memory. She ducked her head to hide her face, as she said, “Ah, I remember. That story always makes Samuel laugh.”

She felt a pang in her chest again, remembering that the caravan was late. Claire then moved onto the Round Corns, which needed to be husked and have their silk removed.

“We know that you meant no harm,” Obelia said kindly. “And you know that you’re always welcome to our garden, little dreamer.”

“Thank you. It’s really kind of both of you.”

“We are Clavats,” Marius said, with a kind of pride in his voice. “We don’t have much, as you can see. But we do whatever we can to get by. A Clavat shares with another Clavat when they are in need. That’s how we’ve managed to survive, all this time. The other tribes may think of ourselves as soft-hearted, though I think that we Clavats have our own way of enduring.”

As Marius said that, it reminded her of something that Samuel said. Being rather philosophical, he mentioned that even though there was tension and discord about the tribes, each of them did what they could to survive. He even mentioned that the Selkies were ones to be understood and have sympathy for, rather than scorn and fear. You know, Claire, the world is what it is. Sometimes it’s not fair, and it can be tough. So we Clavats simply have to be grateful for our lot in life and not ask for more. We have one another, and that’s enough for us to pull through.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and Claire thought she could feel the gentle ache of tears. She tried calming her tears, and soon enough, they eventually passed away when she began husking the corn. Keeping her hands busy always made her feel calmer, more in control of herself. She vowed to herself that she would not cry, not after her sister Mintie passed away on a caravan venture, and her mother passing away soon after. Some say that their mother died of grief. Claire thought to herself that she would move on with her life, and not allow herself to wallow in despair. She didn’t want to die from sadness, like her mother apparently did.

Even so, as the day went on, Claire departed from the farmer’s plot of land with a friendly wave. Night came again, and there was still no sign of the caravan. It was the second day that the caravan missed its welcoming home.

\--x--

“If the caravan doesn’t come back…we have our own way of enduring, don’t we, Father?”

Claire didn’t know what compelled her to ask the question in the first place. She regretted mentioning the possibility that the caravan might not arrive after all. Her sister’s death and mother’s death were still a raw subject for her father. But Arion managed to keep calm when Claire asked such a question. Like Claire, Arion knew that life must go on, and that there was work to be done. “I’ve lived a good life now, Claire. If I were to pass away, then I would have no regrets in life. You understand?”

Nodding in response, Claire continued watching her father work in the forge. The silence seemed to stretch out between them, punctuated by the strike of the hammer against iron. Finally, her father spoke again, in a softer voice this time. “Yes, we Clavats have endured plenty of hardships, but we managed to make it through. Every one of us, including the Lilties, Yukes, and Selkies, have their hardships. Some more than others. Claire, I know that you worry about Samuel. But we have to hold on and wait for the caravan. We have to have faith that they will return. If it weren’t for faith, what else do we have?”

At this point, Claire suddenly understood more clearly what the crystal stood for, the hope and faith the villagers harbored into it with religious devotion. Without faith, they would all wither away, just like the crystal would eventually fade without the myrrh replenishing its glow.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
As the crystal’s glow faded, so did the villagers’ hope that the caravan would return. They still worked as they usually did, though there was a certain dejection in their demeanor, their faces now lacking the former vitality and elation they once held. Claire would now sit near the bridge, trying to keep her father’s words in mind. They had to hold onto faith, faith that the caravan would return and restore the crystal’s glow once more. Sometimes the caravan would be a few days late, but it always made its way across the bridge. Still, several days have passed, and no caravan crossed the bridge back into the village.

Claire’s father still worked at the forge, as he usually did, though Claire suspected that he welded swords with renewed vigor, perhaps to fight off the gloom and dampening spirit that affected them all. However, a disturbing cough came over her father, something that had never afflicted him before. Was the crystal’s glow fading away that quickly? Claire had lost count of the days since the designated day that the caravan was supposed to arrive. She understood the symptoms that miasma caused, having read it somewhere, a burning in the lungs and throat. It first started as a cough, something like her father had now, trying to expel the poison. Accompanying coughing would be a fever, with burning high temperatures.

Her father raised the hammer, and Claire could see the muscles cord in his neck. A spasm overcame him as he began coughing, dropping the hammer onto the ground and collapsing onto his knees. Claire immediately went by his side, supporting him and hugging him fiercely. “Father, you should come and rest. I’ll prepare some water and medicine for you.”

“No,” her father said, a severe determination on his face as he shrugged her away from himself. “Not yet. Not just yet, Claire. I still need to do this. I can’t…can’t leave a sword unforged.”

His hand clenched around the hammer once more before he stood up and raised it above his head to strike against the metal. Sparks flew, causing Claire to flinch with the intensity he struck. There seemed to be a madness overcoming him as he continued forging the blade despite the coughs wracking his chest. She saw that it took a lot of effort for him to simply raise the hammer and continue shaping the burning piece of iron. Claire watched while Arion was in the throes of passion for his work, invigorated by his sense of finishing forging the sword. Distantly, Claire hoped that it wouldn’t kill him, though her father refused to go back to bed to lie down.

Hours seemed to pass by, until her father finally gave the final blow onto the metal. Using a pair of tongs to grasp the bright-red blade, Arion then put the sword into a vat of water in order for it to cool. Claire watched as the water steamed from the vat with a maddening hiss. At this point, he allowed himself to rest for a moment, continually wiping at his brow with a handkerchief from his pocket. Once the sword had been properly cooled, Arion then added the finishing touches, like adding the pommel at the crossguard and polishing it to perfection. After everything had been complete, Arion at last allowed himself to relax.

“This sword…it’s meant for you,” Arion managed to breath, looking at the newly forged blade with pride.

“For me?” Claire said faintly, disbelieving what she’d just heard.

Her father nodded. “It’s yours, Claire. For your thirteenth birthday.”

At this, Claire wrapped her arms around him in a fierce embrace. Her shoulders shook, but even then, she couldn’t bring herself to weep.

\--x--

Her father’s health began failing after finishing his last work. He lay in bed, coughing and struggling to breathe, his eyes unseeing while he stared at the ceiling. The crystal was no longer strong enough to keep the miasma at bay and the poison started seeping through the village. Claire had to put her red bandanna over her mouth to help stave off the miasma. Though Claire found herself overcome with racking coughs as well, she did her best to help tend to her father. The other villagers were also not faring well--and she heard that Farmer Marius and Goodwife Obelia passed away. Claire swallowed her grief and continued taking care of her father. She desperately clung onto the hope that the caravan would come back. That Samuel would come back.

Every night, Claire fixed her father light meals, such as thin-broth soup to help his throat. Yet her father, reduced to his helpless state, dribbled some soup down from the corner of his lip and onto the front of his shirt. Claire dutifully wiped off the mess with a napkin, before carefully serving him small spoonfuls of soup. Once this had been finished, she then went back into her room, closing her eyes. Perhaps it was the miasma, though Claire felt a dragging tiredness seep down into the very marrow of her bones. Closing her eyes brought her no relief, as they itched with irritation from the miasma. While she was drifting off into sleep, she wondered how long it would take until the miasma choked the life out of her.

When she finally slipped into slumber, she dreamed that Samuel was waving goodbye to her before he went off on the caravan.

\--x--

She heard voices. Claire didn’t recognize them, so she simply passed them off as the result of a fever dream. She felt a cool hand brush against her forehead. In her feverish state, she believed that it was her mother who brushed a few damp strands of hair away from her brow. Yet even then, Claire couldn’t bring herself to shed any tears--she simply let out a deep sigh, releasing all her pent up emotions in a passing breath. It only brought momentarily relief, and when the hand pulled away from her forehead, searing pain flashed white in Claire’s mind.

“She’s burning up,” a feminine voice said. “I’m surprised that she was able to survive under such conditions.”

“She’s the only one that’s still alive?” another voice said, this one masculine. Claire sensed someone shifting closer towards the bedside.

“Yes. What will you do?”

A pause that drifted between them, before another voice broke the silence. “Let’s go. I don’t like waiting, especially in a miasma-filled village.”

“We can’t just leave her here,” the second person said, very patiently. “She’s about your age, Cassius.”

At this point, a strong pair of arms wrapped around her. For a moment, Claire thought of being in her mother’s arms, her voice singing a soothing lullaby, a song about hope and traveling to distant lands in order to collect myrrh for the crystal. She instinctively cuddled closer, seeking warmth. Then she suddenly thought of her father, who had strong and sturdy arms like the ones that held her. In her feverish state, she wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, to be held like she once was when she was a child. In the safety of her childhood memories, she could forget about the tragedies that had taken place. 

“Looks like her breathing is getting steadier again,” the male who was holding her murmured. “Good.”

“We can tend to her fever back on the ship, Raziel,” the female said. “Though the crystal’s aura seems to be doing well.”

“Right. Let’s head back.”

The male holding her stooped down so that his lips brushed against her ear, his breath tickling. “You’ll be safe with us. I promise.”

Claire then let herself drift into the comfort of slumber and dreams, hoping Samuel would appear again.

\--x--

Claire woke to the sound of lulling waves. She shifted slightly in the blankets surrounding her. Tiredly opening her eyes, she then took in her surroundings. It wasn’t her room, she knew. Remembering what happened earlier, she wondered who her rescuers were. She remembered their conversation, that she was the only one who managed to survive the miasma that seeped through the village. Claire straightened in her bunk, though with effort. Her pounding headache strengthened, causing her to wince. Her lungs and throat still burned, though there was something else that added to her maladies--queasiness, from the rocking and rolling motion of the ship she was in.

A pair of eyes stared back at her in the darkness. Claire yelped before cuddling the blanket closer to herself, as though that would ward off the stranger in the dark. When she was able to get over her initial shock, she made out the features of the person more clearly. A Selkie. Her heart caught in her throat, when she saw that the Selkie boy was eyeing her carefully. He seemed like a wary wolf, trying to gauge whether or not she presented a threat. 

“Hello,” Claire said, remembering her manners from the Clavatian customs that have been instilled into her. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“Raziel and Luna were the ones who rescued you,” the Selkie boy, whom Claire deduced was Cassius, said. “Not me.”

She eventually relaxed some more, before settling herself down onto the bed again. It seemed that the Selkie boy had no personal space whatsoever, as he then wriggled onto the bunk with her. He stretched languidly, seemingly uncaring that Claire occupied the bunk with him. Claire didn’t have the heart to chastise him, and simply let it go.

“This is my bunk, you know,” Cassius said. “Though I’m letting you borrow it for a little while. ‘Cause you’ve got miasma fever and all.”

Claire closed her eyes. Cassius’s arm occasionally brushed against her as he shifted on the bunk, trying to make himself more comfortable. She then shifted so that her back was turned to him, wrapping the blanket around herself in an attempt to get warmer. Claire then drifted off to sleep again, comforted that there was another presence beside her.

\--x--

Claire woke again, finding herself rejuvenated from resting. Her lungs were now clear from miasma, though a small cough remained. She swung her feet from the bunk, steadying herself on the floor. The rocking motion of the ship seemed calmer now, and Claire’s recovery made her ignore the slight queasiness that overcame her. She brushed her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth out any tangles, then re-did the ribbon in her hair, tying it into a neat little bow. Taking a deep breath, she strode toward the doorway--though someone else appeared with eerie timing.

It wasn’t Cassius, but a Selkie with ocean blue eyes and sun-kissed blond hair. His skin gleamed a rich honey color that spoke of several hours spent in the sunshine, adding further to his golden complexion. An amused smile tugged on his lips as he gently put a hand on Claire’s shoulder and guided her back to the bunk. “Sick patients must stay in their quarters. Just lay down and relax, now.”

Claire allowed the Selkie to escort her back to the bunk, sagging down onto the mattress. Everything seemed so surreal with the gentle rolling motions of the ship and the otherworldly features of the Selkie staring at her. His ocean blue eyes gleamed with merriment as though he found something inherently amusing about the world in general, a buoying optimism bred from good humor and a relaxed outlook at life. It took Claire a few moments before she could address him properly. “Raziel, I appreciate what you have done for me. I’m sorry that I can’t properly thank you…everything has been happening so quickly. We were waiting for the caravan to come back, and my father forged a sword for my thirteenth birthday, and then…”

She then stopped, flushing from her tirade. Bowing her head and folding her hands together in her lap, she then said in a softer voice, “Excuse me. I usually don’t prattle so.”

This only elicited a lopsided grin on the Selkie’s lips and Claire suddenly saw Samuel there. Her shoulders trembled as though she might cry, though Claire straightened herself and stared at the Selkie. She would not grieve, not here, not now. Breaking down in front of this stranger would do nothing to assuage the heartache she felt. His eyes were kind and gentle, which only made the sharp edges of tears prick the corners of her eyes--so Claire simply stared past him, focusing on her breathing until she banished her sadness inside herself.

Even as Claire gazed at him dry-eyed, Raziel then moved forward and did something surprising--his arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. Raziel didn’t say anything--he didn’t need to. His gesture communicated everything, telling her that everything would be fine, and that she had a shoulder to cry on. Claire simply closed her eyes and breathed in his scent--of the oceanside, wild and liberated, of sand and salt and warmth. He embodied all these things, and a memory came to Claire. You’re not meant to stay in this village forever, Claire. Your destiny lies with the ocean.

She stayed like this for a long time, leaning against Raziel’s chest, as she isolated herself from her grief.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Claire stayed in Cassius’s cabin, spending most of her time sleeping, with lack of anything to do. Once she recovered from her miasma sickness, Raziel gave her permission to go to the deck of the ship. Reveling in the sea-salt breeze and the wide, open expanse of the sea, Claire leaned over the railing, hearing the raucous cries of gulls spiraling overhead in the glimmering sun. Drinking in all the sights and smells and sounds that the ocean had to offer, Claire then twirled around on her foot, turning towards Raziel.

“I love it here,” she said. “Being out in the ocean. There’s something calming about the waves.” 

The golden-haired Selkie gave her a smile, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “It’s nice, isn’t it? I love traveling out at sea.” He then casts a far-off gaze to the ocean once more. “I never settle in one place for long. I travel with the currents and waves.”

“I always wondered it would be like to leave the village,” Claire said, staring out at the waves and wheeling birds above. “Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to travel on a caravan. I wanted to follow in my brother’s footsteps and bring myrrh for the crystal. Before my father passed away…he forged me a sword for my thirteenth birthday.”

Claire then folded her hands in front of her and bowed her head a bit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t dwell on the past so.”

She felt a hand clasp on her shoulder, and she saw that Raziel was staring gently at her. “You’ve got a lot on your shoulders, young lady. An apology isn’t necessary, but I will accept a lovely smile.”

He then grins good-naturedly at her, and Claire couldn’t help but smile a little bit back. There was something about the Selkic man that was calming…maybe it’s because he reminded her a bit of Samuel. Samuel, who always bore a grin on his face, no matter how hard things got. He simply accepted life as it is, and Claire never saw Samuel wallow in depression. Ever since Mintie and their mother passed away, he tried his hardest to keep on smiling.

“You are very kind,” Claire said. “Your comforting words made me feel better. Thank you.”

Raziel nodded, before he flipped a coin in the air and catching it precisely, before tossing it casually into the ocean. Claire watched the golden trinket land into the ocean with a vivid ‘plop’, before the waves carried it away. Claire looked questioningly at Raziel for a moment, wondering what this was about.

Raziel rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly before saying, “It’s a tribute to Melusina, the maiden of the sea. We Selkies worship her.”

“Ah, I see,” Claire said with a soft smile, before folding her hands neatly upon her lap. “Can you please tell me the legend of Melusina?”

“It was a legend I’ve always heard when I was growing up as a young Selkic boy,” Raziel said with an amused smile on his lips, apparently pleased that Claire was so keen about learning about Melusina. “She is worshipped as the goddess of the water, though in all truth, Melusina was a real person.”

“She was?” Claire said in astonishment, finding Raziel’s story more intriguing by the moment.

“Oh yes. She was very real. And she was the most beautiful maiden that I ever laid eyes upon.”

“Was she a Selkie like you?” Claire mused aloud.

“Actually,” Raziel said with a wink. “She was a lovely Clavatian woman. Most people associate Clavats with the earth, though Melusina was someone special. Water was her natural element.”

“Are there more people like her?”

“Of course,” Raziel said. “There are plenty of gods and goddesses that rule this world, though they decide to walk this earth in human form to understand what it is like to be one.”

“I see. Thank you, Mister Raziel.”

“It’s no problem. Oh, by the way, Claire…”

Claire went to stand up and stretch her limbs, though she turned around to face Raziel when he called her name. “You’re a daughter of the Earth. The goddess Gaia has taken a shine to you.”

Claire nodded, blushing slightly as she watched the ship’s progress towards an unknown destination. She rather liked Raziel, and she hoped that she would stay in his company for a long time.

\--x--

When Claire made it back to Cassius’s cabin, she saw the Selkic youth whittling away at a block of wood with a knife. The carving bore a resemblance to a Clavatian woman with a fair smile, and Claire was curious to look at it. “May I see your wood carving, Cassius?”

Cassius paused in his movements, seeming to bristle like an aggravated wolf, though he simply gave a shrug and he tossed his handiwork to Claire, who caught it deftly. Claire examined it from all angles, admiring the worksmanship that was put into it. After seeing this wood carving, Claire knew that Cassius had clever hands. He could shape and mold the wood into whatever form that he liked, and this little idol of a Clavat woman held such a serene air to her.

“Is this Melusina?” Claire mused aloud, before gently handing it back to Cassius.

Cassius snatched it away from her, before he began working upon it with more vigor before, wood shavings flying n disarray. “What’s it matter to you?”

“I was curious, is all,” Claire said before she settled down onto the bed, folding her hands onto her lap while she continued to watch Cassius work. “Raziel told me the story about Melusina.”

Cassius seemed to pause for a moment, as though regarding Claire’s words, before he grunted a bit and added the finishing touches to the piece. Once he was finished, he looked over his handiwork with some satisfaction, before he nodded again in approval and tossed the wooden idol towards Claire. Claire caught it deftly, blinking in surprise. “Is this for me?”

“S’not like I have any use for it,” Cassius said with a grunt, before he made his way out towards the open deck. “Do what you want with it.”

“Oh, um…Cassius!”

The Selkic youth paused when he made his way above deck, looking towards Claire expectantly. Claire fidgeted with the hem of her dress before saying, “You looked kind of happy working on this wood carving. You’re very talented.”

Cassius seemed to fumble with words, bristling again in every line of his body, before he eventually relaxed a little and said, “I guess, I just carved what I saw.”

It was then that Cassius fled the scene, leaving Claire alone with the wooden carving in her hands. Upon closer inspection, however--Claire thought that she saw her own face staring back at her.

\--x--

“We’re landing on the shore,” Raziel announced, to which Claire was quite relieved. She overcame her seasickness and wobbliness on the ship, though she still missed having solid ground underneath her feet.

“That sounds lovely,” Claire said while clasping her hands behind her back, hair swaying from the breeze. “Where will we be going?”

“We’re headed to the Mushroom Forest,” Raziel said. “I should like to stock up on some materials and collect artifacts, if there are any.”

“Have you ever travelled with the caravans, Mister Raziel?”

“Once. That was a long time ago, though. My only home is the open sea.”

“I see,” Claire said, sensing more behind his statement and decided not to pursue it. Instead, she changed the subject. “I heard stories about the Mushroom Forest. Mushrooms as big as trees everywhere, a whole forest of them.”

“It is true, what the stories say. There’s a giant marboro that I want to extract poison from for a certain alchemic recipe.”

“You’re an alchemist? How fascinating!”

“I suppose you can call me that, though I mostly think of myself as an explorer or an adventurer,” Raziel said with a smile, before the ship landed in the dock. “We shall travel the rest of the way by foot. Claire, how good are you with a sword?”

“I had a sword given to me by my father, though I’m afraid I’ve never seen combat.”

“Well, it’s about time to put your skills to the test, for you will be helping our little merry band of sailors go through the Mushroom Forest and help fight monsters and collect treasure. Sounds like a fun adventure, doesn’t it?”

“It’s almost like being in a caravan,” Claire mentioned, before he expression became a little more downcast when she started remembering about Samuel and the caravan that failed to return to their village. 

Raziel patted her shoulder and said, “There, there, Claire, it is all right to mourn, though one mustn’t dwell on the past for too long, all right? You are among friends now, and we will take care of you.”

Claire gave Raziel a bright smile in turn. “I know. I’ll try my best to work hard and pay my debt to you.”

\--x--

When they entered the Mushroom Forest, which was filled with oversized mushrooms as tall as trees and caps as wide as village huts stretching throughout the area, Claire breathed in the air and smelled the earthy, spongy scent of fungus, but also the smell of the burnt remains of campfires from caravanners that have traveled through Mushroom Forest recently. Raziel examined the campfire remains and salvaged a piece of bronze among the spoils that he found. He put it into the knapsack that he carried around, before saying, “It’s not stealing if they left it behind.”

Claire had to wonder about that, though she did not rebuke Raziel for it. Selkies had a different philosophy on life after all, and they took whatever they could. The piece of bronze that Raziel found as a freebie was also something that Claire was curious about--if only she could have her own fire and forge, she could try smelting various things from it. Her father let her help forge some of the weapons that he created, and Claire was certain that she could create a sword out of it, perhaps. Bronze was a safer material to work with rather than the materials mythril and orichalcum—that took higher levels of blacksmithing knowledge and proficiency to do so.

Cassius trekked ahead in the Mushroom forest, staying just at the edge of the protective circle that the chalice provided for them. He seemed to be in a hurry for something, though Claire couldn’t decide what. Luna carried the chalice with her strong, steady arms, uncomplaining as she followed alongside Raziel. Claire examined their surroundings and wondered what kind of monsters they would encounter in this place. It was just like the stories, as Samuel has told her, but stories and the real thing were entirely different. Would she be able to wield the sword her father gave her on her thirteenth birthday? Claire clutched at the pommel of the sword tightly and thought about her father working on the blade in a frenzied madness.

Keep calm, Claire told herself When it comes to the moment to fight, do not hesitate. Strike a monster in their vital areas.

She then kept on repeating this mantra over and over to herself, before the group finally stopped for a moment, coming across a giant mushroom cap sunk into the ground. Staring at it curiously, Claire then watched as Cassius trekked on ahead, jumping onto the bulbous cap--before springing into the air with an acrobatic flip and landing on the ground with elegant grace. Raziel applauded Cassius, to which Cassius grumbled a bit and said, “No big deal.”

“I think he was showing off,” Raziel then said as an aside to Claire, to which Claire giggled and Cassius only looked more irritated. “Well, it’s your turn now, Claire. Just go on the mushroom and jump on it once. Cassius will be there to catch you.”

“Okay,” Claire said, a little bit nervous about jumping on the big mushroom cap. Cassius sprung up so high and managed to land gracefully on his feet, but how was she to manage this? “Here I go.”

Claire then bounced on the mushroom cap, and with a giant spring she was launched straight into the air. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and gravity started to pull her down towards the upper ledge, where Cassius was awaiting with open arms. She closed her eyes, frightened of being dropped--though Cassius’s strong, steady arms held and braced her from falling from the ledge. Claire opened her eyes, and saw that Cassius was blushing as he picked Claire carefully and put her on a more secure place on the upper tier of ground, before pushing her back slightly and muttered something under his breath.

“Pardon?” Claire asked Cassius to clarify, to which Cassius blushed even redder.

“…your dress. I could see under your dress,” Cassius said, before slapping a hand to his face and just looking so embarrassed that he might die.

Raziel and Luna came up together, with Raziel flipping onto the ground silently on his feet like a great big cat, noticing both Cassius and Claire’s reddened faces.

“Look at you two,” Raziel said while shaking his head in a playful manner, though there was a bright shine of mirth inside his blue eyes. Cassius muttered for Raziel to shut up, and Claire simply said nothing while holding her hands to her face in mortification. Did Cassius really look up her dress while she was jumping up from the mushroom? Never mind fighting monsters--Claire couldn’t handle this little mishap with Cassius and herself.

“We’re going on a grand adventure,” Raziel said in an enthusiastic tone. “Let’s look more lively about it, shall we? Oh! Away to the marboro that we go! To extract poison from breath for an alchemic recipe~”

“Only you would go on a trip to the Mushroom Forest just to extract poison from a marboro,” Cassius muttered under his breath, to which Claire giggled a little as she looked to her newfound friends with wonderment. With Raziel leading the way, they all entered into the heart of the Mushroom Forest, where unseen dangers lay ahead of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
While they wandered their way into the Mushroom forest, with their oversized caps unfurling wide like umbrellas, Claire paused a moment to take in her surroundings. The scent of earth and fungi was strong in this place, though Claire didn’t seem to mind the scent. It reminded her of growing things in the dirt, and then she remembered, back in her village of Tida, the farmers that took care of their fields and grew things like Gourd Potatoes, Round Corn, and Star Carrots. She swallowed down her sadness and tried to think of more positive things--here she was, going on an adventure with a band of Selkies, almost like going on a caravan journey, just like she always dreamed of. 

Raziel seemed to be in good cheer while Luna silently followed behind him, carrying a chalice with her. Cassius stared pointedly ahead, still embarrassed about the mushroom cap incident, most likely. Claire also found herself blushing and fidgeting with the ends of her dress as well. Claire didn’t think about being improper while jumping from the mushroom cap, and Raziel must have sensed the unease between the two of them, as he then said, “So what do you think about your first adventure, Claire? Isn’t it exciting?”

“Y-Yes, it’s like being in a caravan,” Claire said, trying to get her mind off of Cassius looking up her dress.

“S’not all fun and games, y’know,” Cassius said, seeming to find the proper words to say now.

“No.I take it that you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, Cassius?”

Cassius shrugged off Claire’s address to him and said nonchalantly. “I’ve been traveling with Raziel and Luna for a while. I go on adventures with them to find artifacts, and beat up monsters along the way.”

“I see, that sounds rather fascinating.”

“Oh yes, we seek to find all the possible artifacts that are hidden throughout the world,” Raziel said to Claire. “We’ve already collected some artifacts, which are stowed away on the ship. We then go off to sell some of them to anyone who’s willing to pay for them. It’s one way to make money.”

“You sound like you’re dedicated to your adventures,” Claire said with a smile. “I think I’ll help you too. I want to travel the world, collect artifacts, and fight against monsters with the sword that my father forged for me.”

“You’ll do fine,” Raziel said, before he pointed towards Claire’s sword. “That sword is of very fine make. Was your father…Arion the blacksmith?”

“That was his name, yes,” Claire said, suddenly flushing self consciously.

“No way,” Cassius said, staring at Claire in awe and newfound respect. “He forged my racket. My other one was all beat up and Raziel took my racket to Arion the blacksmith. It’s way better than anything that I’ve ever had, and he made it out of Iron. I heard that he can even shape things out of orichalchum if he had the proper materials.”

“Well,” Claire said with a small flush towards Cassius. “My father loved making weapons, swords especially.”

Raziel examined the sword, before whistling. “You father must’ve loved you dearly, Claire. This sword is made out of mythril.”

“He used such a precious material…on me?” Claire said, before she examined the sword herself and indeed saw this was true. How didn’t she notice before? Was she so overwhelmed with thoughts about Samuel and the caravan? That distinct blue sheen on the blade could only be mythril all right. And if she was no mistaken…

“This weapon is very special,” Claire murmured as she tentatively swung the blade. “It was crafted with some Magicite in the blade as well.”

“Your father really is something,” Raziel said with a whistle. “But in all honesty Claire, I think it suits you. You will grow up to be a fine warrior.”

“I haven’t…adventured at all in my life,” Claire said with a self conscious blush, and Cassius sidled up next to her.

“Claire,” he called out, and Claire looked behind her and let out a yelp. There was a giant, fat green caterpillar that waved its various legs at her and the antenna furled.

“I…I hate bugs!” Claire said in a high pitched voice as she swang her blade and sliced into the caterpillar. It curled up and died. Claire took a deep calming breath, trying to calm her nerves after the little scare, and Raziel whistled.

“You handled yourself well, Claire, for your first time,” Raziel said. “Look, it dropped something. Mind being our Healer?”

“A Cure Magicite,” Claire said breahtlessly as she took the Cure Magicite and absorbed it into her being. It didn’t last permanently, but it lasted a good portion of the day to heal caravanners on their adventures. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everyone!”

“And I’ll smush those bugs for you, Claire,” Cassius said. Claire turned to look at Cassius and smiled at him.

“Thanks Cassius! You’re very dependable!”

“Tch,” Cassius said. Was there a slight flush on his face as well? “Well, I’ll crush ‘em all because I hate ‘em too.”

“I didn’t think that you were afraid of bugs too, Cassius?”

“Isn’t everyone?” Cassius said as he grew more self conscious, and Raziel put a hand on the boy’s head and ruffled it affectionately.

“I don’t think anyone likes those oversized creepy crawlers. But Cassius, be a gentleman and get rid of them for Claire, would you?”

Cassius held his racket out in front of him and nodded fiercely. “I will.”

“So, have you seen this Malboro before, Raziel?” Claire said tenatively. “It’s the king of monsters in the Mushroom forest, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Raziel said as he put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “Sometimes adventurers go and beat up these monster kings or deities but they respawn again after a year or so. It’s very mysterious indeed, though it’s good for adventurer’s like us, because they drop certain items and artifacts.”

“They respawn again?” Claire said thouhtfully, thinking about it.

“It’s like they’re not completely dead, but when you kill them, they respawn back again,” Raziel said as he thought about it. “There must be a source behind these monsters, explaining why they respawn again year after year.”

“Maybe you’re thinking too much into it,” Cassius said a little uneasily. “But…as long as those monsters spawn, it means that we’re in business.”

“Well, I’m going to become an adventurer, even if I have to face something as scary as the Malboro,” Claire said with determination.

“That’s the spirit, Claire,” Raziel said while patting a hand against her back. “We’ll bring it down together!”

“Look,” Luna said as she paused for a moment with the chalice and took a fallen pyke from the ground. It belonged to a Lilty Warrior, no doubt, before they succumbed to the Malboro in the forest. “Others have been here before.”

“Do you think…we could save them?” Claire said tenatively as Luna shook her head.

“Too far gone. Not even Cure Magicite can heal.”

“What a bummer,” Cassius said as he picked up an Iron from the ground that was spilled among the spoils. “Hey Claire…you’re a black smith’s daughter, right? D’you think you could fix my racket for me?”

“Do you trust me with such a thing?” Claire said a bit tenatively. “I’m not sure if…”

Raziel patted her on the back. “Be more confident in yourself, Claire. Surelly your father taught you the secrets of blacksmithing while you were young, didn’t he?”

“A little,” Claire admitted, before Raziel smiled. “But I can only forge bronze and iron, at best.”

“I’m good at wood working, art, and fishing,” Cassius said. “It’s a modest profession, but it’s good to make a glossary of the things that we see around the world.”

“Yes, Cassius makes very detailed drawings of the monsters we have,” Raziel said. “I’m no artist myself, but I’m able to discern things like the anatomy of creatures and find out their weak points so that we have more efficient adventures. Cassius really does do a good job.”

“Tch…” Cassius said with a slight flush.

“As you can see, Luna is our Chalice Bearer,” Raziel said with a grin. “She doesn’t complain and she’s very strong. She may not speak much, but she’s about as strong as I am, I would say.”

“Miss Luna,” Claire said with a bow to the Selkie. “What do you think of your adventures with Raziel and Cassius?”

“Like…being among friends…” Luna said as she stared off into the distance. “Will follow Raziel…forever.”

“Friends…” Claire said, before nodding to herself. She was among friends. She liked the sound of that.

—x—

“Didn’t you try stealing the poison from the Malboro before and failed?” Cassius said as they made their way towards the entrance to the Malboro that was said to live in the heart of the forest.

“It was an experiment, not a failure,” Raziel said with a grin, before saying. “Using alchemy I’ve determined several antidotes that may or may not be an eventual cure for the miasma sickness after prolonged exposure. Maybe I’ll find an eventual immunity to it for now, as no one has found the source behind the monsters and the miasma. So might as well work with the environment we have and make a profit out of medicine and alchemic recipes.”

“Your father was an Alchemist, Raziel?” Claire asked in wonder.

“Raziel nodded. “The sense of adventure and wanderlust is in our blood. I take after my father, all right. And I say that we both share the same genes, as it was said that my father was very handsome in his prime..hmhmhm.”

“Don’t flatter yourself…” Cassius said.

“Raziel…” Luna said, as she paused before the edge that was towards the Malboro’s lair. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Raziel said, as he took out his racket and prepared to enter the mushroom forest where the Myrrh tree was. “Okay, our plan of attack is this. Stay within the light of the myrrh and dodge when it spews it’s poison breath. And I hate to say it Claire, but bugs will spawn so you’ve got to be brave.”

“I h-hate bugs,” Claire said as she clutched her sword closer to her. “B-But I’ll do my best.”

“You seem to know a lot about this monster,” Claire said to Raziel, and Raziel winked.

“Well, they say that fools become wiser through experience. I used to get poisoned by this thing all the time…it’s a miracle I survived. Or maybe I just built up a special immunity to poison. Hehe.”

“More like you’re so hardheaded that you won’t die,” Cassius muttered. 

“All right, we’ve got out game plan in action,” Raziel said, before he charged forward with his racket pointed undauntingly towards the monstrous green plant with several eyes and dark foiliage. “Onward!”

“Yah!” Claire said as she lunged forward and sliced at the caterpillars that guarded the Malboro. Three strikes and they went down. 

Cassius lunged forward and attacked the Malboro relentlessly with his Iron Racket, putting a good amount of damage on the beast, though it showed no signs of slowing down. When it spewed its poison breath, Claire took off her bandanna from her head and covered it around her mouth to avoid the poisoin, while the Selkies managed to backflip out of danger’s way, darting back and forth to get some hits in and to hit the malboro while she stayed back and healed anyone that needed Curing with the Cure Magicite. 

However, despite her bandanna and staying in the back, Claire took the brunt of a poison breath attack from a bug that loomed before her. Coughing and sputtering, Claire knocked back while Cassius charged forth and killed the bug that poisoned her. 

“Oh no, Claire!” Raziel said as he continued beating up the Malboro with Luna. “Cassius, get out healer in tip top shape! We needed her to help us against the poison.”

“R-R-Right, b-but…” Cassius said as he took Claire into a safer position and lied her head against his lap. “Er…what do I do?”

“Mouth to mouth!” Raziel shouted, and Cassius gave Raziel a disbelieving stare.

“Shouldn’t Luna be the one to do this?” Cassius said helplessly, before Raziel showed a rare moment of anger.

“Damn it Cassius, forget about being proper and get Claire back up again! Just make sure that she’s breathing!”

Cassius muttered underneath his breath, though Claire noted a great flush on his cheeks when he hovered over Claire’s head and latched his lips onto her, giving her air. 

“Come on, breathe,” Cassius muttered as he pushed on her chest, trying to expel the poison, and then latched his lips onto her again. “Breathe, Claire!!!”

“Cass…ius…” Claire said in a very faint voice, and Cassius looked relieved.

“Oh thank God,” Cassius said. “Claire! Raziel and Luna need you. Can you stand?”

“Um, I think so,” Claire said, though she could barely lift her sword. “You might need to…get rid of the bugs for me, Cassius.”

Cassius grinned. “I told you before…I’d get rid of those bugs for you because I hate ‘em too. So go ahead and heal Luna and Raziel!”

“Will do,” Claire said as she cast Cure Magic on both Raziel and Luna. Claire found her blood singing as she fought against the Malboro, willing to protect her friends.

“I won’t let you kill them!” Claire called out as she swung out at the malboro to give the final strike.


End file.
